


literally just priyanka's sex dream

by brookstone



Series: charles collegiate [2]
Category: Canada's Drag Race RPF, RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27729649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookstone/pseuds/brookstone
Summary: i wrote this in chapter 5 and thought it'd be a good idea to follow up on it:"This time, she dreams about Lemon's apartment, in an alternate world where Lemon's the estate agent and Priyanka's going for a viewing, and Lemon's wearing a pencil skirt and a tight white button-up and a blazer with a cute name badge and it definitely doesn't turn into a sex dream except it totally does.Ah.Fuck."
Relationships: Lemon/Priyanka (Drag Race)
Series: charles collegiate [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028334
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	literally just priyanka's sex dream

**Author's Note:**

> warning: i don't write smut and this barely even counts as smut
> 
> i don't even really read smut lol i only read it if it happens to be in a bigger fic??
> 
> i'm so sorry
> 
> (also you're lying to yourself if you don't think lemyanka would have the biggest constantly-in-flux powerplay dynamic)

"Good morning, Miss…?"

"Hey! I'm Priyanka."

"Great. If you'd like to come through now."

Her name tag reads _Luisa_ , and there's a small shiny sticker of a lemon after the 'a.' Priyanka thinks it's cute.

She also thinks Luisa's outfit is cute.

And the woman herself.

Is it immoral to fuck someone you're showing a property to? Probably not, right? Priyanka hopes it isn't.

"Oh this is gorgeous," Priyanka muses, running her hands over the kitchen island's countertop.

"I know!" Luisa exclaims, grinning. "I'm so glad you think so."

Priyanka looks right at her. "You're gorgeous too."

"I know," the other woman says, quiet and flirty. "I'm _so_ glad you think so." She walks over to Priyanka with a little sway in her hips and Priyanka is near enough hypnotised. When she talks again, it's even quieter than before, and she's leaning up to Priyanka's face and Priyanka can feel her breath, gentle and warm. "I'm Lemon. Try and keep up." And then she's off again, strolling around, chattering about the average utility bill or something that Priyanka doesn't care about right now.

Suddenly, they're in the bedroom. The implications lie heavy between them.

"Now, this is our current tenant's bed, but you can use it to help visualise what you'd do with the space," Lemon tells her, her hands gesturing away but her eyes firmly meeting Priyanka's.

"Yeah," Priyanka says. _I'm visualising what I'd do with you._ "It's a good space."

Lemon doesn't move. "What would you do with me, then?"

_Stupid fucking dream logic._

"...Whatever I want?"

"Whatever _I_ want, Pri."

"Whatever you want."

"There we go."

Priyanka rolls her eyes, amused. When she looks back at Lemon's name tag, it reads _babydoll_ and still has the lemon sticker on the end, twinkling at her. When she looks back at Lemon's face, she's smirking, and Lemon starts to trail her fingers across Priyanka's tummy over her shirt.

Priyanka gently, ever so gently, reaches out to rest a palm against the side of Lemon’s face, her fingertips reaching her baby hairs, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek back and forth ever so delicately and affectionately. Lemon leans into it, and reaches for Priyanka’s arm with her hands, clinging to her. Priyanka nearly melts at the softness of it all. But she doesn't.

Her other hand takes a hold of the tag-less lapel of Lemon's blazer, a rich mustard yellow that matches her skirt. She could push or pull Lemon however she wanted to, really, like this, she supposes.

Something tells her Lemon wouldn't want that. Not here, not now, not yet, at least.

So she just kisses her.

Priyanka doesn't know how the real Lemon tastes, how she kisses, how she feels under Priyanka's touch — she's sure the real thing is a million times better than this, and even this is glorious.

And then Priyanka's got Lemon on her back on the bed and her knees are beside Lemon's respective hips and there are hands reaching up under her shirt and her own hands follow suit below her.

Lemon has one hand at the clasp of Priyanka's bra and the other has drifted to Priyanka's hair, tangled in its waves, nails flirting with Priyanka’s scalp. She unclasps the bra with one hand too, which, even in a dream of her own brain's creation, Priyanka finds annoying. So she nips at Lemon's neck, and Lemon rolls her hips and her hands clench over Priyanka's body, and there’s tug at Priyanka’s hair which encourages her to graze her teeth over Lemon's gorgeous skin, leaving gentle nibbles at her jaw and her collarbone and all over.

Priyanka would pay money to hear Lemon make the sounds she makes when she adorns Lemon's neck with decidedly possessive love bites. Proper money. And a _lot_ of it.

Lemon pulls her back up to kiss her lips, desperate, and hooks her legs around Priyanka's back, pulling her in even more. The whine from the bottom of Lemon's throat when Priyanka caresses Lemon’s breast down to her waist is blissful torture.

"What do you want?" Priyanka asks Lemon, moving back to press kisses up and down Lemon's jaw, tracing over where she imagines Lemon's nipple would be.

"You," she gets out.

"Mm-m, not good enough."

Lemon whines again. (If she whines that pretty in person then Priyanka will absolutely _wreck_ her.) "You, your— _ah_ — your fingers, in me."

Priyanka smirks, teeth teasing Lemon's earlobe. "Say please."

The real Lemon would probably protest a little more at that, fight harder for her pride and control, but Lemon in Priyanka's dream lets a needy 'please, Pri' flow from her lips.

So, manic and blinded by the way Lemon’s lips are parted, Priyanka grasps for Lemon's underwear. She manages to get them down to Lemon's knees before indulging her in her delicious request. Somehow, she doesn’t choke on her own breath when Lemon moans underneath her, and squirms against her so soon.

Priyanka feels feral.

Lemon throws her jacket to the floor, name tag clattering, and basically tears her blouse off. Her bra is a gentler yellow than her uniform, but is still yellow ( _how does it not clash?_ and _how does she get pastel yellow to work on her, she's so pale?_ and _what the fuck is it with yellow anyway?_ jump through Priyanka's mind) and matches the panties bunching, by now, at Lemon's ankles. She's a pristine mess under Priyanka's touch.

Priyanka near enough loses her mind. She doesn't know what to do with her free hand. She wishes she had twenty hands.

And then Lemon tenses under her for a moment and lets the sweetest gasp out, and Priyanka snaps back to giving Lemon her attention.

She slows the pace of her fingers, and gently pulls one of the three inside Lemon out, and Lemon's hips move, on instinct, nearer Priyanka. Priyanka, in response, holds the very top of Lemon's thigh and pushes it down, keeping Lemon from moving. And Lemon stills.

"Good girl," Priyanka says. Lemon smiles. "You're so fucking hot."

"I know," Lemon quips. Priyanka cocks a brow and slips another finger out. Lemon's smirk crashes down. "Please."

"Please what, Lem?"

"Please more."

Priyanka leans forward, and kisses at Lemon's navel. "Ask me properly."

"Please fuck me." Priyanka smiles against Lemon's tummy. "Please, Priyanka."

"How?"

"Hard."

"And?"

"What?"

"Hard, _what_?"

"Hard, _please_."

" _There we go_."

"Fucking bitch." (Priyanka lets her get away with it.)

She wakes up just as Lemon's about to cum underneath her, like when you wake up from a nightmare just as you're about to die except this time she's being tormented with guilt and shame and Lemon's body, but she thinks she'd happily die a thousand deaths just to experience the bliss of Lemon's intimacy once.

Priyanka's hand finds its way below her waistband.

She was totally fucked.


End file.
